Uneasy
Yadap walked through the hallways of the Everlasting Faith, on his way to the mess hall to receive his daily ration of food. He had always been careful to stay out of trouble; during the war, he served as a technician on the larger ships that were least likely to be damaged in battle. He had also been lucky; during the Great Schism, his ship had been commandeered by a group of Jiralhanae under the command of a Minor Prophet, whose name Yadap was struggling to remember. So why am I uneasy? he wondered to himself. He found the line as the public announcements system began broadcasting a message throughout the ship. “Greetings, everyone, and welcome to another cycle aboard the Everlasting Faith. As I’m sure you’re all aware, everything is perfectly in order onboard our ship, with no deaths to report within the last cycle.” That’s not true, thought Yadap. If it was, I would have seen Kamad at one of the last five mealtimes. Something’s not right here. “Now, I expect to see all of you at the sermon in a few units...” Yadap remembered that religion was important before the Prophet took over the ship, but had the distinct impression that a mandatory sermon every twenty units was overkill. For that matter, Kamad had told him that he would have to miss a sermon to visit his injured son in the medical bay before his seeming disappearance. I haven’t seen anyone in Kamad’s family since then either, Yadap suddenly realized. The line moved forward. Yadap was struggling to keep his sudden fear from showing in his face. He had another sudden thought about religion. As far as he understood, the Great Schism was the result of an epiphany the Sangheili seemed to have about the Great Journey being a lie, although the Prophet had taken over before Yadap could verify any information one way or the other. The ship’s faster-than-light communicator had been placed off-limits as well; Yadap had heard somewhere that it had been destroyed for target practice. The line moved forward. Yadap’s thoughts turned to the family he had been forced to leave behind on Balaho. Sure, the Blue Death was always a concern there, but he had always reasoned it would be a better death than dying alone in space without your friends and family nearby. One thing the Sangheili had consistently done was allowed the Unggoy to contact family on Balaho, while this new regime had effectively closed off the ship from the rest of the universe. Yadap was beginning to lose concern over whether the others noticed his expression of fear; he was preoccupied with the possibility of not even seeing his family in the afterlife. The line moved forward. “You look troubled,” ventured the Kig-Yar cook. Yadap hadn’t noticed that he was in line to receive his food, and the cook’s words brought him back to reality. “It’s nothing,” Yadap said unconvincingly. “It’s obviously not nothing,” replied the cook. “Here’s an extra ration of food, maybe this will raise your spirits.” Yadap sat down and began eating his double ration, instantly beginning to feel better. “…and remember, we shall all walk the Path and achieve salvation at the end of the Great Journey! So say I, the !” the voice concluded. That was it, mused Yadap. The Prophet of Pity. He seemed to remember being uneasy, but wasn’t quite sure why. Whatever happened, he knew he would see his family in the divine beyond. Word count: 585 Category:The Weekly